Defamed
by iBroken
Summary: Rated T for Violence, based on The Dark Knight. The world, through Joker’s eyes. A bit insane, yes, but nothing a bottle of brandy couldn’t fix.


**Defame**

**By: **Depressionist-Obsessionist

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**Rating:** M

**Genre:** Dark/Violence

**Movie: **The Dark Knight / Batman

**Dedicated to: **The late Heath Ledger. Luffles!

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**Warnings: **Slight insanity, Rachel-bashing.

**Summary:** Rated T for Violence, based on The Dark Knight. The world, through Joker's eyes. A bit insane, yes, but nothing a bottle of brandy couldn't fix.

**Disclaimer: ** DC Comics owns Batman, I guess.

**Inspired By: **The Dark Knight's 'Joker'.

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_Criminals are like, types of knives._

_For some reason, I can compare people to knives. I relate most to the simply absurd of ideas, but hey, it's always most fun that way. _

_For an instance, me, I'm a cooking knife. Kind of dull, not too sharp, but very affective. I can be useful in the most strangest of situations, be it cutting a vegetable, or sliding it into your sons mouth and cutting the sides._

_Oh, did I mention how I got my scars?_

_But anyways, if Batman were a knife, I know he'd be a butcher knife. They're not used often, only when it comes to the chunkiest of meats. Unfortunately, they're not very accurate. Just the simple knife you use to cut the big parts. As always, after the big parts are cut off, you need something to carve out the delicate insides._

_There, comes the smaller, miniature, butter knives._

_Who most suits a butter knife? Ah. I know the perfect butter knife. The one who takes the onstage call, and takes all of the fame, even if the work is done by the butcher knife. The guy with two the halved faces?_

_Aww see. I can't even remember his name. I think he kept calling himself Two Face. Harold Two Face? Harry Two Face? Harvey Two-Face? I don't really care. But he's the butter knife. Taking all of the fame, none of the blame. Even more peculiar, you can't trust a butter knife. It's too easily influenced by the flow. Sometimes it's smooth, and other times its bumpy. _

_And then we have the classic knife. Y'know, the ones people carry around in movies, pretending they're so violent and scary. You just hold it up, and act as if it really is scary. But when you try acting with it, it's useless. Hell, I doubt it could harm a cow._

_That is Commissioner Gordon and his horde of police men. Didn't I escape them oh so often? I can't believe they haven't been fired yet. These people are useless; they can barely do any damage on anyone, and even if they could it's doubtful they would._

_So, that's how I classify it. A bunch of handy dandy knives. And I know how to use each one of them. _

_Ever heard that song; Pop goes the weasel. I always wondered why the weasel went pop. Now I know it's because a knife hit the weasel. I find it funny that the weasel didn't just go boom. All of that money I stole before, from those criminals that benefit over the citizens money, no one found out where I spent the large bunch of it. But I do._

_One hundred kegs of oil on the boat, one hundred kegs of oil. Light one up and blow it up, ninety nine kegs of oil on the boat…_

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"D-don't move… I-I'm sure th-this is a j-joke? R-right Massey?"

But the woman found her companion suddenly frozen stiff. Her eyes landed on a certain keg, with a piece of dynamite attached to a timer on it. The timer had mysteriously started up. Something told her it wasn't just counting up the time of the day. "M-Massey! D-do something, please, please, please! O-oh my darling Billy must be waiting for me at port in Buzzkirk, I can't leave him behind!" she screamed.

A voice suddenly sounded through the speakers making her silent.

"Your older son, Mrs. Gordon, is dead. Courtesy of your friendly neighborhood. Say, how about we play a game? We're going to sing that song, about the beers on the wall. When we get to 1, you die. If we don't, well, Billy and the Commissioner die."

Mrs. Gordon screamed loudly, but the voice started singing that dreaded song. The one she feared would kill her, or Billy.

"One hundred bottles of beer on the wall, one hundred bottles of beer. Take one down pass it around—One bottle of beer on the wall."

Kaboom.

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End file.
